


Wild Leash

by lasciviousWildheart



Series: Mad DirkJake: Furry Road [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bondage, Furry, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 02:17:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7871965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasciviousWildheart/pseuds/lasciviousWildheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>??? did you think???? my depravity would somehow end???????</p><p>This is basically a sequel to bad moon rising which i wrote with hex because im blatant about trying to drag my furry friends into homestuck and my homestuck friends into furry </p><p>me and hex are aaallreaddy talking about a third entry into this >_>;;</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pressure

This shouldn’t have posed a challenge. You’ve worked with Skaian technology you could barely understand before, and much more complicated than this at that. Making your own transportalizer really shouldn’t be this difficult--your design was fully functional, you knew it, so why wouldn’t the damn things DO anything when someone stood on them?

It just wasn’t adding up, and you were getting frustrated. You suppose it would be best to leave the Space shit to a Space player, but you and Jade had gotten embroiled in a scientific campaign of one-upmanship, and you really didn’t want to concede this point. You needed it badly. 

Between your competition and Roxy’s ridiculous level of zeal for the subject, plus Jake’s occasional brilliant leaps provided casually and over your shoulder, you felt like you were really coming to figure out some of the basic underlying principles behind Skaian tech, if not something so grand as a design ethos. It would be exciting if it didn’t perpetually leave you with the feeling you were only scratching the surface of something much deeper. 

Not for the first time you wondered: Just who the fuck built this stuff? Deciphering it seemed as much an emotional process as an intellectual one, at times the tech seeming to link and connect in ways that made no sense at all.

Which you suppose was what had you so goddamn frustrated in the first place. This shit should be working. Legendary godlike technology, more like...Legendary godlike piece of shit. You groan under your breath and press your fingers against your aching temples. How long have you been at this again?

JAKE: BLIMEY, dirk, did you ever go to bed????  
JAKE: It’s gosh dang three in the afternoon bro!!!  


Oh. Whoops. 

Jake was standing in the arched doorway that served as the entrance to your room, has raised in befuddlement at the, admittedly, small degree of chaos your focus had caused to the place. He had last been here yesterday night--you’d watched some garbage movies, made out for a little while, traded blowjobs, and that had been that. He’d taken an unusually early leave of absence, needing time to “recharge”. You had already started getting pretty used to that, but it had been more welcome than usual, since you had really wanted to get this finished tonight. The ability to create your own transportalizers would be invaluable to all sorts of population control and space exploration ventures, and it was fairly exciting stuff. 

Not exactly as exciting as Jake himself, however. He looked really good today. He was wearing a simple sleeveless shirt, black with light honey edges and his Hope symbol at the center. You were glad he’d taken to it so much--it suited him. The shirt showed off his newly emerging muscles, too. Jake had always been pretty rugged, but the fact that you’d all started sparring and wrestling had A) Made the dude deliriously happy and B) Begun to have some fantastic payoff in the muscles department. 

 

 

Lately, whenever you looked at him too long, you wanted to touch them. Well to be fair, wanting to touch Jake was nothing new. And neither was getting a boner thinking about it. But still, they flattered the thick hair on his arms and his square, stubbled jawline. He was getting older. Both of you were, you suppose-- it had been almost two years since the end of the game, and you were both growing boys. 

He stood with his chest high and square and his crotch vaguely jutting outward--kind of like the hero (or to be precise, the heroine) of an action movie. Also kind of like he was striking an early pose in a good soft porno. He more or less moved that way all the time, if he wasn’t lapsing into slouching and irritable nerdy rowdiness. Both looks were pretty hot on him, and every day they seemed to get hotter. 

His eyes stayed big and wide and open, though--that same glimmering emerald green. Childlike eyes, in a way. Eyes full of excitement and wonder. You loved those eyes.

DIRK: Um. No? I guess I lost track of time, sorry.   
JAKE: Aw man no no no this won’t do at all!   
JAKE: Dirk you have to go to bed immediately!!!   
DIRK: Dude, why? I can go a couple days without sleep.   
JAKE: Yes but we needed you at maximum efficiency tonight, come on!!!  
DIRK: Maximum efficiency? Why? Is something up?  
JAKE: Oh um i suppose you havent…  
JAKE: Well nevermind in that case its no big deal just hurry up and come to bed immediately! Ill wake you up later it’ll be aces i promise   
DIRK: You’re prompting an awful lot of questions on my part, Jake.   
DIRK: You’re pretty bad at lying.   
JAKE: Ummm i couldnt possibly begin to guess what youre alluding to strider but--  
DIRK: And also, I don’t want to go to bed yet.  
DIRK: I almost cracked this thing, I can feel it.   
JAKE: Oh absolutely not strider this is NON-NEGOTIABLE!   
JAKE: You’ve probably felt that way all bloody night and i for one will not prostate for karkat’s floggings if i fail to follow through!   
DIRK: Karkat’s...floggings?  
JAKE: Oh, um...nothing! That was nothing don’t worry about it.   


Lord, but the guy was lousy at keeping a secret. Nevertheless, you were curious. Not curious enough to put him on the spot and press it, but curious.

DIRK: How about you take a look, then?  
DIRK: Whenever I get stuck like this, you usually manage to pull something ridiculous out of your ass.   
DIRK: Maybe I’d have finished already if I had a bit of that English Hope Genius on my side tonight, and then I’d finally have something to match Jade figuring out how to compactify the alchemiters.  
JAKE: I doubt anything any of us ever do is going to match that, dirk.  
DIRK: Yeah, well, not with that attitude.  
DIRK: And it would be a start.   


His gaze lingered on the transportalizers laid across from each other and you smirked. He loved getting a chance to impress you, even more relished the chance to work with mechanics with you as an equal. The timeframe you came from naturally gave you the edge on those generally, but working with Skaia tech made you peers in confusion, and for all your meticulous research and deduction, his natural talent and intuition often gave him the edge. 

It was one of your favorite things to do together. A couple of times, you’d even made a day of it with Roxy--Jane, John and Calliope acting as stress relief and lab assistants. It was still one of your favorite memories, and not just because at one point John had had to grab Jake by the hips in a full-fledged _embrace_ that had given both you and Roxy some uncomfortable raised eyebrows. You’d...both had a lot to talk to Dave about after that one. 

This time didn’t stick, though. He tore his eyes away from the machinery and scowled at you. You immediately tightened all over, but you were particularly aware of the tightening in your ass. Jake was rarely actually upset about anything, if often annoyed--the sight of him giving you any expression but some variation of a smile was rare enough that it never lost it’s power. Also, it was always awesome when he got rough. You thought of the first time you’d really had sex, his shy smile as he stumbled through the words, “Do you, uh, that is...do you want me to?”

Another favorite memory. It was funny how many of those you’d just started creating relatively recently, once the game had come to an end. Even if everything that had come before that was already starting to fade, to take on the quality of a long and terrible dream. When he started speaking again, his voice sounded stern and lectury. You’d have found it annoying from anyone else, but from Jake it was just adorable, and made you shiver with the desire to comply. The things this boy did to you. Maybe someday you’d understand it, if you listened to Karkat enough.

JAKE: Sounds swell and excellent, strider. For tomorrow.  
JAKE: Don’t make me drag you to bed myself!   
DIRK: I might be more inclined to go if you did.   
JAKE: Auuuughhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
JAKE: You know what, fine! I’ll do you one better. I was planning to save this for when we could take our time but since apparently the ONLY way to lead this horse to water is by the goddamn dick, whatever!   


Fuck. Maybe the worst thing about you two doing the furry thing was that now he could rip on you for being into horses that way. He was getting good at it, too. It’s hard to be too bothered though because he decaptchalogues something, something ropey and circular, and...oh god.

You’re already on your feet. He snickers.

JAKE: I take it you’re pleased, then?  


You’re so pleased. You’re as pleased as a fucking bunny that got gently dunked into an ocean of motherfucking carrots. That was a collar. That was an awesome tight-looking spiky collar, with a goddamn leash. That was a collar Jake had presumably made, by himself, without any prompting from you. A collar Jake had made for what you could only assume was the express purpose of using it on you. 

He didn’t walk but swaggered closer. Suddenly this tiny room seemed too tight, your little workshop table unpleasantly cold to the touch. You berated yourself quietly for not showering over the course of the night--you couldn’t quite tell if you were starting to smell, and you could practically feel your hair gel failing you, the tips of your bright red hair starting to frizz and fray. Your kingdom for an alchemiter combination that produced hair products good enough for your standards. You’d already tried combining one with a Dragon Ball Z poster, to John’s snide chuckling and no results. 

His free hand wrapped around your hip and pulled you close to him and you resigned yourself to it--Jake kind of got off on you being unkempt for some reason, anyway. He made your point for you by digging his face into your neck and sniffing deeply. Weirdo. You stood there and let him though, because he was hot, and because any sign of affection from Jake was a mindblowing treasure, no matter how readily he supplied them. 

Your hands tied themselves around his back under his armpits almost out of reflex. You just couldn’t help yourself around him, the transportalizers already forgotten. It dawned on you that he was manipulating you, that he knew exactly how to get you in bed and sleeping in a matter of minutes, and he wasn’t even going to let you shower first like you usually do. For all the childlike earnestness and innocent wonder, Jake was perfectly capable of some truly insidious guile. It would bother you if it didn’t turn you on, and if you didn’t love it when he took over. 

He nuzzled against your cheek, his stubble sharp and prickly. His hand traveled over your back applying pressure, pressing him into you because he knew you bent over what you were working on and he was straightening you out, your spine cracking and loosening under the pressure. You sighed. It was always so relaxing when he took charge--not to have to do anything, sure, but moreso for the peace of not having to worry you were going to fuck something up. 

He pressed his lips to yours and you opened wide, let his tongue loose in your mouth to explore you. He took your breath, your thoughts, your focus, giving you the feeling of being pushed down to the floor of your mouth instead. The tickling of him feeling your teeth, the inner linings, the sensation of him sharing his air with you. You barely registered him wrapping the tight fabric around your neck, latching it shut.

When he pulled away, you whined and tried to follow--get caught against his hand spread downwards purposefully, drawing the rope taut. Jake’s eyes were still big but they weren’t innocent anymore, staring at you with purpose and hunger. He licked his lips.

JAKE: Safe word. You’re supposed to come up with a...safe word, for this stuff.  
JAKE: Karkat told me. What do you want yours to be?  
DIRK: You talked to Karkat about this? Dude, that’s--   
JAKE: It was a private conversation between discretionary gentlemen, dirk! I won’t have you on my case about your ridiculous privacy standards now. I just wanted to get it right is all.   
JAKE: On the subject of which: safe word??? Come on bro i’m dying here.   
DIRK: I don’t…  
DIRK: I don’t need a safe word. It’s fine if you’re in charge.  
JAKE: A charming sentiment, to be sure, but i really don’t want you to end up hurt or uncomfortable.   
DIRK: But--  
JAKE: Safe word, dirk, or i unclasp you. That’s final.   


You closed your eyes and tried to stifle a shiver. Goddamn. Jake had started to really understand the best way to shut you up was to be short and to the point about it, and it didn’t help that he had the immovable, reliable fact of your thirsty desire to lean on. He could get you to do literally anything, and he knew it, and he wasn’t shy about using it anymore.

DIRK: Fine. Um...cat’s whiskers.   
JAKE: Cat’s whiskers??  
JAKE: Bro that sounds like something i’d say ahahahahahahahha  
DIRK: Shut up, it’s all that came to mind.   
DIRK: You’re gonna have to unclasp this thing anyway, dude.   
DIRK: How are you supposed to get my shirt off like this, genius?   
JAKE: Ah, yes, about that. You’ll just have to forgive me later.  
DIRK: Huh?  
JAKE: Later. Follow me.  


As if you had a choice. He didn’t walk far, just over to the bed, but he was kind of literally keeping you on a short leash here. The pull of the thread made your walking hurried and kind of awkward, made you acutely aware of the thick, tight pressure you were currently suffering from. Why did jeans have to look so goddamn cool when they were this tight? 

At some point once you’d started really hitting it off and making things work between you two, Jake had started...changing. Well, maybe not exactly. Maybe it was more like a _loosening up_. And to be fair, you could feel yourself doing it too. Maybe it was just a consequence of your Aspect--like you were more tuned to the ebb and flow of people’s identities making their mark around their world. 

Whatever the case, you liked it. Loosening up, for you, had been a sort of relaxation in your shoulders and hands. It had become easier, somehow, to take Jake for granted--to assume he would want to stay in your company, in his own way and time. And to let him take the lead, take control, be in charge of everything. 

 

 

If once upon a time you had been the Batman to his Robin, now you were more the Jerry to his Totally Spies--trusted strategist, helpful counselor, your opinion often considered..but really he would always pretty much do whatever he wants. A reference you only knew because, much to your dismay, he had conscripted you to endless, endless reruns of that damn show. It would have been easier to be angry if he hadn’t adopted some of Sam’s outfit choices into his wardrobe. And if he wasn’t so damn cute about it. 

But if you were enjoying the fruits of your new power dynamic, then Jake was downright blossoming inside it. He took to dominance naturally, and the fact that you were so willing to give him whatever he wanted made your occasionally barbed conversations lose much of their bite. You hadn’t realized how much they shook his self-confidence before, and it made you feel awful, but whenever you tried to apologize he just shrugged you off-- “Well things are better now, right? Don’t worry about it mate, i made plenty of mistakes also!”

Stupid lousy goddamn sweetheart boyfriend. What a gentlemanly pain in the ass.  
Maybe literally, if you were really lucky. 

He was pouting at you, though--he’d noticed you’d gotten distracted. He was used to it by now, patient about it even. You still felt like you’d annoyed him. When your eyes focused on him he just sharpened his gaze and grinned lightly at you, though. Nudged you slightly by the leash and put you between the bed and himself. Put his free hand on your chest and his leash hand taut on your ass. 

Lowered you down gently onto the bed, your knees spread and opening, caught against his own knees as he sprawled on top of you. The pressure on your neck made it ever so slightly harder to breathe. His breathing was husky and hoarse on your breath all of a sudden, his gentlemanly demeanor beginning to crack. Jake wasn’t exactly great at waiting, and it was obvious he’d been looking forward to this even if you’d been too wrapped up in your projects to notice. _I was planning on saving this until we could take our time_.

You shivered. Looked up at him. What was he seeing? His smoky green eyes were blinding and gorgeous, his small smile easy and friendly even with him keeping you like this, even with the power he casually wielded. His rough, calloused hand stroked your face and god, shit, when did you get this worked up? You moan and try to press yourself against the touch. Your cock twinges in your pants and you have GOT to do something about this.

DIRK: Jake…  


His hand crept behind your head and wrapped itself in your thick hair. He shuddered when your breath tickled his cheek. He was probably never going to be very good at not being phased at stuff, but that was ok--the thing about Jake was he was always phased, and always tried for more anyway.

DIRK: Jake, I have GOT to get out of these pants. My dong is going to rupture.  
JAKE: Sorry dirk, i can’t let you do that.  


Motherfucker. Was he seriously quoting 2001 at YOU? Even after all the AR shit? So many emotions sprang up at once: guilt, pain, confusion, regret...realization that Jake was probably fully goddamn aware of what he was doing...bitter pride that he was learning the ropes of irony so well, and mixing them with power play to boot...sexual frustration, once again. It always came back that. You groaned. 

Suddenly he used his sylladex and...equipped the bed with something? You tried to reach down to your belt but Jake’s hand caught your wrist and stopped you, he fucking stopped you. You moaned and tried to push yourself up against him. Jesus, you were kind of shameless when you were sleepy. Whatever, Jake just chuckled and let go of the leash and your hand, digging under your back instead and lifting you, pressing you to him. 

You hissed at the feeling of your aching hard cock pressed up against his through too many layers of too tight fabric. You were going to fucking break something soon. Was there an opposite of a safe word? Like a code for “Stop pussyfooting around and goddamn fuck me already?” You wish you’d taken the time to establish it, even if it was a losing gamble--on your best day your brain would still be a constant echo of the phrase. 

He adjusted you dead center in the middle of the bed and took hold of your arm with his hand, stretching it to the edge of the bed. Held you down with one hand as he bent over and pulled--oh, god DAMN. He wrapped the hard band around your wrist and snapped it into place, locking you in. Your stomach did a sick jig on the edge of a cliffside and took a tumble all the way in. 

He met your eyes with a grin, but no two Jake grins were exactly identical. This one was sly and slurred, his eyes heavy-lidded and lustful. How long had he spent thinking about this? Knowing Jake, you could be fairly confident in guessing the answer was years--that even when you were just a picture and words of text on a screen, he was already fantasizing about how to take you. Jane and Roxy, too. Somehow, knowing that was what made it real, made you believe you were an object of desire to him even past all your mental defenses and self-loathing. 

The kind of thing only Jake could do. 

His thumb and index finger, cradling your forearm as he led your arm to the other edge of the bed. Pinned it there, used his right arm to click the other--handcuff?--into place. You strained against them and realized they were perfectly sized to restrain you, specifically--comfortable and painless but completely unforgiving. Jake had really thought this through. 

With a cold pit in your stomach, you realized you’d genuinely just lost control. Whatever happened next was utterly up to Jake’s mercy. He was forcing your legs apart with the mass of him, and you wondered if this would finally be the part where he took off your pants.

It wasn’t. Jake stared up at you as he crawled downwards, away from your crotch. Bent over and snuck his hand into your shirt, feeling you and raising it upwards. He put a kiss on the top of your hard stomach and you gasped, fighting to keep breathing. 

He pushed your shirt up, up, up your chest, stroking your sides and muscles as he went, teasing you. Or maybe not? He wasn’t looking up at you at all, not following your reaction. He was just lost in the geography of your body. Taking it in, making it his. Using you as his next exploratory venture. That was somehow even worse. 

It occurred to you that as weird as it was to have no control over anything at all, it wasn’t really scaring you much. You were nervous, sure, even kind of uncomfortable--even when he was six inches deep inside you, you could at least whack him or something if he messed up too badly. You didn’t even have that much here. 

But there was no sense of fear about it, and that was unusual, because you kind of feared everything. Even your friends, even yourself--maybe especially those things. It’s so easy to get hurt when you care too much. But there was none of that here, Jake having usurped you entirely. Dude was as harmless as a puppy, and about as eager to please. 

Also, he was your best friend. And he’d turned you into a fucking furry once--fucking being the operative concept. If you’d lived though Rose’s brutally mocking interest with him, you could trust the guy with anything. 

A sharp pinch in your chest.  
Jake was looking up with a hard frown, unhappy with you.

DIRK: Ow!  
JAKE: Pay attention, dude, jeez. I’m only attempting to ravish you over here!  
DIRK: You should’ve warned me you were trying to get into pain kink stuff, dude. Didn’t Karkat teach you anything?  
JAKE: Augh, i wasn’t! That was just me giving you a hard time as a pal for being difficult!!!  
DIRK: Yes dog, you can totally get away without your injuring my helpless body being construed sexually, so long as you say ‘No homo’, first.   
DIRK: Look, I got lost in thought a little, but I can’t exactly do anything. Just give me a heads up next time?   
JAKE: Christ, fine sorry jeez…  
DIRK: It’s not like I fucking think about anything that isn’t you in the first place, anyway.   


You had sounded hurt, and petulant, because you were both of those things. But Jake’s thumb was already rubbing over the part of you he’d twisted, sorry and eager to make amends. You sighed into the sensation immediately. You were physically incapable of staying upset with Jake so long as he had more attention to give you, it seemed. 

And what attention it was. He bent down and kissed that place, too, lifting your shirt up even higher so it was bunching up around your shoulders and neck. Looked up at you and your cock throbbed, god, his eyes were something else--soulful and regretful and full of feeling.

JAKE: I suppose that is true, isn’t it?   
JAKE: It’s just so hard to wrap my head around. You’re always thinking of so many things.   
JAKE: Sorry for being such a brute about it. You want I should untie you?  
DIRK: I’d give you props on dom play if I didn’t know you were being entirely earnest.  
DIRK: It’s fine, dude, I didn’t say the words remember? Guess you were right about that, though.   
DIRK: Easy to forget it when you’re such a softy, but there’s some sharp edges in there.   
DIRK: If you really want to make it up to me, you can take my pants off already.  
JAKE: Haha sorry dirk but that’s still not happening.   


Fuck. This was so unfair, he was getting really good at this. He was getting really good at everything, actually, and you couldn’t quite ignore how much of that had to do with him really coming to believe you all thought as highly of him as you did. Or maybe how you were starting to believe they all thought as highly of you as they did--maybe.  
Or maybe both of those. 

Limitless page potential, huh? You couldn’t help but wonder where the wild ride known as Jake English was ultimately going to take you. His hair tickled your nose, his tongue tickled your nipple and suddenly you were crying out into the crown of his head, straining up past the handcuffs. 

He sucked at it and you groaned, your legs kicking up and around him. The bottom of your socked heels knocked against his back but he didn’t even notice. His arms wrapped around your torso, one taking grip of your shoulder under your shirt and the other digging in through your jeans, making the pressure worse as his fingers dug into your non-existent ass. 

He touched you, took his fill and lingered, then before you knew it he was tearing himself loose and leaving you dizzy with him, spreading your leg out and latching your ankle into place at the foot of the bed, then doing the same to the other. Now you couldn’t move whatsoever, save to buck and force your hips up against his a little bit. That cold feeling in your stomach spikes again but Jake was already washing it away, devouring the shape of you with greedy, strong long fingers and planting little kisses on your chest and up your jawline, skipping the messy cloth covering your throat.

You whined against the pressure keeping you pinned, trying to wiggle out of it, trying to get closer. His hand loosed from your shoulder and felt at your face, stroked you on the cheek, traveled in the hair around your ear. He let go of your nipple and shot himself up, pressed his lips against the other side of your face and let himself lay flush along your stomach--holding himself up just enough not to hurt. 

Suddenly, he tore himself loose again, left you needy and lonely at the bottom of the bed without him. You bit down on your lip so you wouldn’t whimper. But this time was different--the room was suddenly brighter, all the colors slightly off. Looking up at Jake, you understood why. 

He was holding your shades, looking at them curiously. He grinned down at you, playful and mischievous as he slipped them on. 

Wow.

The sharp V of them didn’t look bad at all, framed by his square jaw and thick black hair. His smile was excited and breathless, but you couldn’t see his eyes at all, as badly as you wanted to. Suddenly you understood Jake’s frustrations with you a whole lot better--especially like this, unable to claim them back from him. You were almost worried you were going to find a way to hurt yourself against the restraints.

JAKE: Hey, these feel pretty aces to wear, as a matter of fact.  
JAKE: How do i look, strider?   
DIRK: Looks...looks good on you, pal. Planning on committing to the brand?  
JAKE: Oh i dunno about that…  
JAKE: I feel like maybe shades like these make me feel a little TOO cool?   
JAKE: You need some kind of rock-solid will to keep control wearing puppies this sick i think  
JAKE: I’m not like that at all!   
JAKE: Why, feeling this satisfied with myself, i could get the urge to do just about anything!  


He was smiling down at you, his hands caressing your sides. You wiggled and panted under the touch--it was starting to tickle. Fuck fuck fuck, Jake was getting incredible at this--the innocent manner of teasing you, the masterful stroke of irony hidden in the painful sincerity of his statements. He was doing it on purpose, and it was the worst, and the hottest thing that had ever happened to you. 

His hands wrapped around your shirt, pulled it down a little over you but kept hold of the seams.

JAKE: In fact,  


They tightened, and began to pull.

JAKE: Shades this sick give a bloke the urge to…  


Pulling hard, harder, his strong arms clenching and angling and re-angling just right, Jake couldn’t possibly be that strong but then again Jake could possibly be literally anything--

JAKE: BREAK things a little!  


The tear broke through the bottom of your shirt and you sighed loudly, awash in the loud ripping sound as the whole thing unzipped easily under his grasp. Your chest came exposed, but Jake didn’t take to it, instead grabbing at the cuffs on your shoulders and tearing those open, too. He grabbed at the shredded fabrics and tossed them any which way off the bed. You couldn’t quite stifle the moan, which you had totally intended to be more of a sarcastic one but instead just ended up sounding kind of owned. 

Well. That was ONE way to get a guy shirtless. You liked that shirt, too. But you could just make a new one, and you suppose the fact you couldn’t have stopped him was kind of the point. You didn’t think Jake’s mind was on getting you to sleep quickly anymore, exactly, even if you knew he was going to succeed. 

He smiled and licked his lips, overbite gleaming in the neutral light, his eyes hidden behind those damnable shades--closing him off somehow, rendering him at least partly a mystery. You were going to have to start wearing those less, around just him at least. But in a way the mystery made him hotter, allowed him to keep even more control. 

Finally, finally, his hands settled around the rip of your jeans. You did your best to twist into his grip, openly needy. You were aching and in pain now, the pressure far too much for you, and you were starting to develop a thin sheen of sweat. 

He didn’t unzip--just pulled hard and if he hadn’t been using his Hopey thing before he definitely was now, smoky wisps of white rising behind your glasses and his hands outright aglow with it, you couldn’t see his hands past it but through the fabric of your boxers your dick sure as hell could feel it. Cotton and Catholic-style heavenly clouds, caressing you. You moaned some more. 

You lifted your butt the tiniest bit as the tearing denim gave way in a smooth circle, and then he ripped the jeans open along the lining one leg at a time. You breathed hard and heavy, trying to keep up, your eyes shut tight. You could hear him chuckle and fuss and grumble. The size of his hands isn’t quite right, though. They’re too big, for one thing, and his nails feel awful sharp. Jake’s chuckle opens into a laugh, pleased and docile--if with an edge.

JAKE: Boy strider you sure do seem to trust me an awful lot, don’t you.  
DIRK: *Huff* Of course I *Huff* Do, *Huff* you idiot.   
JAKE: But i could be doing anything down here! Doesn’t it worry you?  
DIRK: There’s nothing you *huff* can possibly do *huff* that I don’t want you to.  
DIRK: Besides, you know *huff* not ever touching my dick. That would suck.  
JAKE: Haha i suppose...man i really like you, dirk.  
JAKE: And i mean like a whole gosh fucking much.  
DIRK: Ahaha, thanks. You too.   
DIRK: I can’t...see your hands, though. Is something up? It feels...different.  
JAKE: Ah yes well you see, the whole point is that you can’t exactly tell right?  
DIRK: Aha. So that’s how it is.   
JAKE: Yup! Hehehehehehe  


You tried and failed miserably to hide the blush creeping into your face at Jake’s words. Luckily, it didn’t last long, because that bizzare feeling of his hands was back again-- like hair or carpet draping against your skin, and something sharp was tearing into the bottom of your boxers, a little too close to very sensitive places. 

For a second you almost panicked, the words--Cat’s Whiskers--on your tongue, but you bit down and stilled them. For now, at least. You weren’t hurt yet, and this was Jake. You trusted Jake. Believed in him. You could certainly at least let him mess up and hurt you himself--it’s not like you could get hurt all that bad, certainly compared to what you’d already done to yourself for his sake. 

 

In any case, the fear passed. He took hold of the considerably looser fabric of your orange little boxers and tore through them like toilet paper, and then finally, mercifully, you were free. Cool air and incredible relief hit your dick in tandem, and you twanged and moaned in response, biting your tongue.

JAKE: Good boy, strider. Thanks for being so patient with me all the time, you really are a swell pal.   
JAKE: That was gosh damn diddling BONKERS, DAMN that was hot!!!  
JAKE: I’ve been wanting to try that for forever.  
DIRK: Does that mean I finally get touched, maybe?   
JAKE: Oh no not quite.  
DIRK: Fuck. Come on, dog, what’s a guy gotta do?   
DIRK: Should I beg? I’ll beg if you want me to.   
JAKE: What’s with you and always wanting to beg all the time! Do you get off on it or something?   
DIRK: Um.  
DIRK: Maybe? Does it bother yo--  
JAKE: Oh jeez dirk no it doesnt bother me, it’s fine!!! I was just curious.  
JAKE: Go ahead and beg if you want to, it just won’t make the slightest bit of difference.  
JAKE: I just have some things to take care of and then i’ll touch you once i’m good and ready, and that’s just the end of it!   


Oh fucking lord. You hadn’t realized your cock could throb this much, jump around this violently, like you were just a guitar he was playing with his words. You squirmed and fought but couldn’t get any traction off the bed, while Jake simply backed away from you entirely and started undressing, just out of your view. 

Goddamn. Well, you had wanted to beg, right? You raised your voice to a low shout.

DIRK: Jake...  
DIRK: Jake!  
DIRK: Jake? Buddy? Pal? Bro? Home dog?  
DIRK: Jake!!!  
JAKE: Oh will you settle down over there, what is it!   
DIRK: …  


Except you couldn’t think of what you wanted--you knew he was coming back, and you could even guess the timing from the sounds of him undressing. You heard the soft sound of boxers hitting floor and tensed all over. Called his name softly again, less for him than for yourself. 

But he didn’t come. The sounds were gone, but so was he. For the moment it seemed Jake had dissapeared entirely. Immediately your brain started whispering about nihilistic philosophy, casually, cooly observing the limits and rules of your reality. Limits and rules that currently included being restrained completely. You argued back with basic logic, obvious facts. If Jake didn’t exist, how were you tied up? If he did exist, why would it make sense for him to suddenly leave you here? You won the skirmish, but the part of you that wondered still got some blows in. 

Then, aching relief: A flash of white. Jake, existing. It sure sounded like he was definitely fucking something up over there, but god, who cared. You almost wanted to laugh that those quiet thoughts had found a way to slip in at all. You’d almost forgotten what it was like to have them, and now they had just left you a little bemused. The days when they had been overpowering and insistent, when nothing could stop them but the cold drizzle of your shower, seemed like a distant nightmare to you.

DIRK: Jake…  


You said again, and there was no humorously disguising your aching need for him. Sorry, bro. Full homo. Though you knew for a fact that was what Jake wanted anyway, and it was you that was lagging behind on this one. 

Finally, finally, like a splash of cold water: Jake’s heavy footsteps, claiming more ground. Coming into view. Only it wasn’t Jake. Only it was. You blinked at him, genuinely confused. You kind of lived for the moments Jake totally stumped you. Then you recognized the shape, realized why it seemed so unfamiliar. 

Once again you found yourself reminded that a Page of Hope, theoretically, had literally no limits--was basically as close as it came to God, so long as they figured out how to apply themselves. This was just Jake putting practice to promise, and you hadn’t realized how little you ever expected it. But it was true. You were Dirk Strider--Extraordinary homosexual, ultimate existential philosopher, destroyer of souls, legendary tightass and anxious, and pepertual neurotic wreck over the fundamental oddity of existing in reality. And your boyfriend was pretty much God.  
The homophobic Christians of the 21st century would have literally gone up in flames.  
Oh, also, you were God too. A god, at least. Man they would NOT have been happy with this turn of events. 

 

Anyway, it was his fursona. He’d transformed into his fucking fursona. He’d looked pretty weird at first, but now you realized it was you that was different. Last time he’d turned you too, into a tiger, and presumably grown you both roughly to scale. He’d looked about as tall as you as he ever had last time, but now he seemed almost towering, a relatively imposing figure. 

You know, for dudes who didn’t literally manage to make the badass wolf look seem like a puppy’s attempt at a magician's trick. He was grinning at you with a massive, full set of carnivorous teeth but he looked for all intents and purposes as harmful as a particularly fluffy bunny. It was weird how you could tell that without even seeing his eyes, because he was still wearing those goddamn fucking shades. How many times had he threatened to break them? You genuinely couldn’t believe you could relate. When he opens his mouth, his voice comes out in a growl that vibrates deep in his throat. 

You were just barely able to to twist your eyes to glimpse his crotch, and...haha, holy shit. The dude had paid attention to your research. You HASS the wolf boner. That was a fucking knot. A goddamn actual knot, in real life, on your furry boyfriend! You were vaguely aware he was watching you grin even through your ( _his_ ) sunglasses.  
When he spoke, he broke the spell.  
It was the most weird and hilarious thing you’d ever heard.  
Of all things, he sounded confused.

JAKE: You’re not...spooked?  
DIRK: What? Why would I ever be spooked?   
JAKE: Well i’m uh...you know, i’m all big, and tough! And i have big deudly claws!  
JAKE: I could do anything i wanted now! I could use this weird...furry dick and mess you up!  
DIRK: Oh, if only.  
DIRK: I’m guessing you’re probably going to just tease me with it, but god, I really hope you don’t stop there.   
JAKE: Oh come on! I’m so strong and intimidating and frightening! Roar!!!!!!!  
DIRK: Ahahahahahaha yes oh god that’s so fucking cute.   
JAKE: Grrrrr dirk you’re being lousy about this! I had such a great speech about how noble your trust in me was all planned out to knock your socks off with!   
DIRK: Well, what’s stopping you? Sorry I can’t stay too intimidated when my boyfriend lovingly presents me with a dick literally designed for my personal satisfaction.   
DIRK: You’re just too much of a great guy, Jake, it’s fine. I dig it.   
JAKE: Grrrrr no no no this is making me mad!!!!  
JAKE: Why do you have to be so unflappable and resiliently stoic all the time, i’m a spooky scary monster and i demand to be treated as such!   
JAKE: You’re going to be properly worried about my dangerous new appearance and you will do so **NOW!**   


And just like that, you did--Jake really could do anything. The way the word now breaks in his throat is like nothing you’ve ever heard. Furious and primal and echoing, but also sensual in the way it broke over your skin and set your ribs shaking. It wasn’t a simple order--it was a bark of a command, literal as well as emotional, a severe and unquestionable **woof.**

When you looked back up at him he was closer, his hands already reaching over your side. He pressed a pad there and the feeling of his fur immediately made you bite down on your lip. Fuck, that tickled. And he was right--those claws were pretty sharp. It wouldn’t have taken much for him to get irritated and unsheathe them, and even if you knew he wasn’t going to, he did look different. 

It had been easier when you were different too, but this was just you, suddenly rendered with a boyfriend who was strange and monstrous and alien. And incredibly hot, but it was a compelling horror narrative--you know, in principle. And his eyes were still hidden--you had no idea how annoyed he really was or how much he’d be willing to do to make you pay for it, even in profile the glasses seemed to angle just right to disguise him from you. Was he trying to make the point on purpose? If so, you got it already, goddamn. 

His free hand reached down and stroked the inside of your thigh, furry palm coming dangerously close to your balls, canceling all further thought completely. You recoiled and bounced against the restraints immediately, whining loudly. Shit, you’d completely forgotten you were tied down. 

Delicately, so delicately, Jake pressed his claw against the skin at the bottom of your balls. You groaned. Now he was being reckless, and you had to admit--it did worry you. Of course Jake wouldn’t hurt you on purpose, but what if he messed up? You could never face Jane with an injury from something like this--you’d much rather live the rest of your days in obscurity, as a eunuch. Ok, no, that definitely wasn’t true, not as Jake’s hand trailed up the ridge between your testicles and rode up the curve, up to the base of your dick, with sharp and perfect precision. Just enough to tickle, and no more. 

You sighed but it came out like a breathy whimper. Jake blinked, grinned a pleased grin to himself. God, how you wished you could see his eyes, get closer to him--the fluff and bulk of him looked so inviting. He readjusted and got himself on arms and knees around you. Even as a regular dude, Jake was half a head bigger than you, and considerably more muscular. Growing up in the jungle fighting monsters built the stuff a lot more than growing up in the ocean by yourself, you guessed. 

You were working on catching up, but like this you would never even patch his pace. As an **APPARENTLY REAL WOLF BOYFRIEND(!?!)** , Jake absolutely overwhelmed you with sheer size. Suddenly he was a cage of heat and comfort, his body heat warming you even more than three inches apart. You knew it was more than that because you could fucking measure the distance between the tip of your miserable, neglected dick and the hard furred line of his stomach, his ass high and his thighs spread in a way that made him seem submissive somehow--when we has definitely not-- but the rest of him just barely high enough to torture you with the promise that if you could just...push up...hard enough…

Your mostly nonexistent ass gave out on you, the sorry traitorous bastard. You fell to back to the bed and cried out, twisting your neck against the pillow.

JAKE: Hubba hubba   


\--God, God, Please, if there was an actual God out there anywhere--if Jake was going to say more stupid old man sounding garbage, could he please just touch your dick first, you were sweating, just the sound of his voice was quickly becoming enough to make you go wild--

JAKE: I wasn’t expecting that to work out quite so well, actually. Did i scare you?  
DIRK: Aah, Jake...Please, come on man, I’ve been good, I’ve been--  
JAKE: You know i don’t prefer being addressed that way, dog :/   
DIRK: Shit. I’m sorry, I just--  
JAKE: It’s fine, no harm done, just answer my question.  
DIRK: I...yeah, I got a little scared.   
JAKE: Enough to cry uncle?   
DIRK: Maybe, if I’d thought of it. But I didn’t.  
JAKE: So you didn’t. You didn’t think i’d screw the pooch on it?  
DIRK: Yes. No. Maybe? What’s the point of this, dude, I’m going to die here. If you wouldn’t mind just--   
JAKE: Remind me who’s in charge of this adventure again, strider?   


His voice vibrated and doubled over on itself. Resonant and reckoning. You couldn’t help it, your cock throbbed in response. You could feel it was wet--you’d never been much of a pre-cum guy but probably everyone was a pre-cum guy when they got tortured like this. There was just no denying him. 

On the other hand, you just realized Jake’s hands were big enough now to wrap almost all the length of your hips. You weren’t exactly a small dude, either. His claws were still pressing into your skin, and he was squeezing hard. Hard enough you would’ve expected them to break skin, but they didn’t--instead just gave you a sensation that should have been discomfort but was instead almost ticklish and comforting. Like clouds. Or cotton. 

You blinked. Had Jake planned that, or was it his natural aversion to hurting you? Something about the smug way he’d trailed his claw over you made you think it was the former. He really was a clever bastard, when he wanted to be. You were pretty impressed at the subterfuge.

DIRK: Y-you are.   
JAKE: Aces, see that was easy enough right? So you didn’t think i’d mess it up?   
DIRK: God, you’re insistent. No, I didn’t.   
JAKE: Why not?   
DIRK: Because,   


It’s only when the words were on your lip that you realized what he was looking for, what this whole elaborate play was set out to achieve. Fuck, he really was learning from you--he should’ve known to just come out and ask. But of course, that didn’t exactly have the same impact, did it? 

You thought of the first time Jake had given you those words. How close you had come to confessing your feelings on the spot--veered off only barely into an admittedly even weirder confession. The vague sense of peace and confidence he’d inspired. Did that go both ways? Just how did this Hopey thing work, anyway? Maybe it was a kind of feedback loop--him to you, and back again. Like playing catch. Or like wings taking off together. 

His eyes stared down his long snout and you had no idea what they looked like, you didn’t remember very well. But you knew damn well exactly what expression they had.

DIRK: I believe in you.   


Suddenly, your world was the land of fur and pressure. So starved for touch, now your skin exploded all around you--the weight of him, the tickling brush of his fur, his head nuzzling you so hard it forced your neck leftwards. You didn’t exactly have the presence of mind to hope he wouldn’t lick you--his tongue could have swamped you from the bottom of your ear to your jawline-- but he didn’t.

 

 

Instead his hands took gentler grips of your sides and started wandering, rubbing into you all over. His fur was long and draping, tickling your chest like a brush. Your dick was thrust up inside it, glowing hot with stimuli--like you’d been thrown into a dense forest. You gasped for air, your chin raised over his shoulder as he stroked his head against you. 

You could feel the force of his tail wagging, lightly pressuring the bed side to side.  
You whined against his neck, helpless to get closer to it. Oh god, the fur was touching you everywhere, and it was so soft and gentle. In some places tickling, in others electric pleasure. Like he’d alchemized a fleshlight with a fucking car wash or a feather. You hitched your breath and hollered into his neck, breathed him in deeply. A smell like vanilla and honey, not the smell of Jake exactly but the white-gold color of his magic. 

He heaved back and his fur brushed along you like clouds, leaving trails of sensation that multiplied upon each other. You moaned and bit your lip hard enough you might have drawn blood. He chuckled.

Still those fucking goddamn glasses hiding his eyes, the grin on his snout either delighted or villainous. What was harder to miss was the red tip of his cock above you, but he wasn’t even paying attention to that. 

He raised a hand to his face and you stopped breathing. His fingers closed around the black edge, threatening to lift. The world slowed to the space between your heartbeats--you painfully aware you were feeling the next one too slowly. 

Then his tail brushed against the bottom of your foot and you screamed. Brush brush brush brush brush--he just get going, he was doing it on purpose, letting the soft fur scuff at you in explosions of tickling. Shit, fuck, you hated when he got ticklish but that was the point wasn’t it? Oh god, you might actually die here.

You couldn’t help it, laughter and moaning came out of you in competing bursts, you cursing Jake’s name with the little breath you were able to. His glasses were off fucking FINALLY, and of course you’d known what was behind them--Jake dying to please and loving, like a goddamn puppy. The furry look couldn’t make him look more of a puppy, sure--but it didn’t have the power to render him any less of one, either. 

If a sadistic, clever puppy that had grander plans than even you for your puny human cock. He started rocking back and forth again, this time deliberately, tickling you all over and sending EMPs blasting off inside your cock. You could barely even yell--it was too much of a struggle to move enough to breathe. 

And what was worse, you were frozen staring into his eyes. Jake’s eyes, radiant and shining, friendly and eager to love. But not exactly Jake’s eyes. Jake’s expression--absolutely, you would know that anywhere--but rendered on something slightly different. It seemed Jake had traded details with your fursonas you hadn’t noticed last time, under the moonlight. 

Jake’s eyes weren’t green, but orange. Your orange. 

It didn’t take him long. Just a little bit longer of you panting out--one brush, two, three-- and you were straining against the restraints wildly, heat flooding your head and chest, whimpering Jake’s name with your high, breaking voice.

DIRK: Jake...please...Ah! Ah! AH!  


Lightning crackled off you, pink and thunderous, breaking the air and zapping Jake all over.  
When your orgasm let you go you were shaking, desperate to get enough air. Your cock was throbbing hard and aching and you felt fucking soaked along the torso and chest--Jake’s fur must’ve fucking rubbed it all over you, you were a genuine work of postmodern furry art.

==> CHOOSE ENDING


	2. ENDING A:: KNOT YOUR MAMA'S FURSUIT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I totally promise Dirk gets knotted in this fic, second ending forthcoming

When you finally stopped seeing stars and the world stopped swimming away, it was just Jake there. You must have broken his disguise somehow--fucking Prince of Heart bullshit. You couldn’t say you were sorry, though, because hot as that had been god how you missed your Jake. He didn’t seem to mind either, or maybe even notice, because he wasn’t thinking about much of anything. 

You watched him stare down at you as he stroked himself hard and fast with short breaths. He didn’t try to meet your eyes. Just stared down at you with his eyebrows curled weirdly upwards, like he couldn’t quite fathom how great what he was seeing was. With his free hand he cupped your balls, making you hiss, then softly took hold of your spent, sore cock and stroked it downwards. You whined under him, a plea for mercy. 

If he provided it, there wasn’t much. He didn’t speed up, but kept on touching and stroking as you hitched and pulled against the restraints, utterly helpless. Eventually he got bored and, without even breaking rhythm on working his own dick, bent over a little on his knees and started stroking and pressing your semen into you, spreading it over your chest like he was painting you with it. 

He let out a high, hoarse gasp and fell, his forehead pressing into your chest and the tips of his hair tickling your chin a little. Then a long whine, and then he was coating you too, his seed landing on top of yours, shooting out of him or dripping down from him. Making you squirm. Your breath came in large whoops and sucks as you struggled to reclaim the ability to think.

JAKE: Haa...haa...haa…  
DIRK: Ahh...Ahh..Ahh…  
JAKE: Oh man, dirk…  
DIRK: No kidding, bro.  
JAKE: I didn’t mean to drag it out that long, honest.   
DIRK: I don’t think you’ll ever hear me complaining.   
JAKE: Haha, yes well…  
JAKE: Happy birthday i guess, buddy.   
DIRK: !  


He unlatched first the one hand, then another in big forceful lunges. He buckled against you again, still clearly dazed from the force of it. You wrapped your sore arms around his back immediately and closed your eyes. So this was what you’d been calling for that whole time. Jake. Of course. Obviously.

JAKE: You really should get to bed though, you’re gonna be a wreck for your and dave’s birthday party.  
DIRK: So that’s what this was all about?   
JAKE: Well...as good an excuse as any, isn’t it?   
DIRK: Yeah, I suppose.   
DIRK: But you don’t need any excuses with me.   


He settled down on top of you, pressing his torso into yours. A wet and gross feeling, but you were already so tired. His cock pressed up against yours awkwardly but comfortingly, both spent and raw. Both of you could feel the gentle throbbing against the other.  
You breathed him in and the smell soothed you like a sopor.  
Yeah, clean up could wait, you thought sleepily as he curled his arms around your shoulders and settled his head in, nuzzled against yours. 

It could wait.


	3. ENDING B:: PUPPY'S FIRST YIFF

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :D

When the world stopped swimming and the stars faded out, letting you see again, your feet were unclasped. The overgrown, shaggy wolf known as your boyfriend was barely paying attention to you, though--he had acquired a bottle of lube from his sylladex, and now he was rubbing the stuff onto that bright red alien dong of his. His thick, saggy balls rested on the bed between his huge knees, your own legs between them, and pretty much every cell in your body shouted at you simultaneously to try and cup them.

You tried, but no go. Whatever mercy he’d had for your legs, your hands were not afforded it.  
Even through the afterglow and the languid relaxation it was pushing into your muscles, you knew that meant he wasn’t done with you. Your chest was all but coated in your cum and you could see clumps of fur on the front of him that were similarly wet. 

Those sharp orange eyes trained on you, narrowed hard with devastating intent. You wiggled as much as constraints and exhaustion would allow you to--To try and get away? To try and get closer? There was something predatory in his eyes, something that wanted you whole, and now it kind of did scare you. In that delicious way Jake always scared you when he was about to fuck you until you felt like your mind was punching a hole in the ozone layer. 

He licked his lips and it was so much like when Jake usually licked his lips--but it was also so different. His tongue enormous and thrashing across the side of his snout. His eyes, usually just deeply focused, now looking borderline aggressive. And maybe it was just the shape or the angle, but that wolf dick looked way bigger than Jake regularly was. 

If he’d wanted to intimidate you, he was succeeding. 

He grinned, and you knew for a fact something in your eyes had tipped him off. He knew.

DIRK: S-so, bro, planning on making good on that promise, then?   
JAKE: Well obviously. You asked me to and all, i’m just being an exemplary chum here.   


He crept his hand under your flat ass and lifted you effortlessly, pawed at your ass with the skin of his paw, his claw turned away from you. Careful and gentle, but with the brisk speed endowed by practice and experience. Your breath quickened.

DIRK: Right. Yeah, of course. Hey, thanks for that by the way, dog.  
JAKE: No problem at all! Also nice pun hehehehe.  


He leaned over, curled around you. Adjusted his lube hand around your bottom and pushed your legs up so you had to work to keep them in the air, spread around him.  
Just like he liked it. Your stomach did a totally rad flip and you felt a cold sweat break out all around you.

JAKE: But say strider you are speaking awfully quickly.  
JAKE: You wouldn’t happen to be...nervous about this?   
JAKE: Out of your depth, even? Fit to cry uncle?   


The heat and weight of him bearing down on you. The fur on his neck tickled your nose, and you shook your head back and forth trying to find an angle to escape from it with. In the end, the only solution was to wait for him to come to you--suddenly the weight and sloppy wet tickling of his chest was bearing down on you, and fuck, were you hard again? Your cock throbbed into his waist, announcing that yes, you really were just that shameless.

DIRK: That’s absolutely preposterous, Jake, and you know it.   
JAKE: Right, right, of course.   


He snickered. Suddenly you could feel the tip of him, delicately pressed against the coil of muscle at your entrance. It recoiled at the touch and you let out a short yelp of surprise. Your heart was beating so hard and fast against his chest, fuck, he could definitely feel that. You were a nervous, blushing groom on your very first night of xenodick honeymoon. Jake’s tail was wagging, and you squeezed your eyes shut as he just kind of laid there, lingering. You heard him silently whisper “Cute…” and vowed to decapitate yourself as soon as your hands were free to do so. 

He nuzzled himself against your cheek again, his ear flicking in and out of your hair in a twitch. The gesture was pure affection and love, and it made you understand the appeal of owning a dog a little better. Which was a weird fucking thing to say about your boyfriend, but was there anything about your life that wasn’t weird? Probably not. And in any case, it helped calm you down a little.

JAKE: It’s alright if you’re scared, bro. I know this is new and all.  
JAKE: I won’t even make fun of you for tapping out even though you literally asked for it!  
DIRK: Nope. Not happening. You’re overblowing my reactions, Jake--I’m ready for this.  
DIRK: Just--  
DIRK: That thing is different, okay? It’s not what I’m used to.  
DIRK: Maybe just take it slow, for a bit? None of your cinematic bucking bronco horseshit.  
JAKE: Ehehehehehehe, all you had to do was ask, man!   
JAKE: I’ll be gentle.  


You groaned. Of COURSE he was just angling to use some corny movie line, make this as mortifying and cliche as possible. Then he was pressing in, the tip of him sliding easily into you, and you groaned very differently. He growled in his throat, the force of it shaking you. Your legs closed around him reflexively, but like this he was big enough you couldn’t close them all away around his hips like usual. Instead you just kind of latched limply at his sides, impotent. 

It was easy to take him, at first--the tip of the thing was way thinner than Jake’s dick, and at first you barely even felt it save for the novelty. But the thing was, it just kept widening. Widening and widening and widening, until it was Jake’s usual girth, and then another inch wider than that. Jake was already a fucking girthy boy, and now you were struggling to even keep your breath. 

He slowed down, noticing you trying to keep up, and swiveled gently back and forth, sliding friction in and out of you. Oh shit, that was weird, that was different. He was there, but he forced you open by different amounts in different places, and it gave the friction and force a rhythm totally unlike your usual. You moaned into his shoulder, wishing desperately you could wrap your arms around his neck. Settled for squeezing your legs around him tighter, which seemed to encourage him.

He pushed in just a little too fast, a little too hard--bumping your ass with his knot and making you shout. Fuck, this was getting intense. Jake’s growl grew louder, more feral and desperate as he rocked back and forth. He was too tall for you to see his face like you usually could, and you whined, craning to get a look at him. This was awesome but you really missed Jake’s eyes, overwhelmed and loving, his wondrous little grin.

DIRK: Jake...Ah! Jake! Jake, come on!  


Your whining was getting a little desperate, but whatever, it worked. Jake looked down at you as he pumped himself into you, smacking his knot into your ass again. You felt it try to press in and bit your lip. Jake definitely got an eyeful of whatever pathetic expression you made at him, because his eyes were huge and his pupils dilated wide. This fur felt cool and absorbant, taking up the sweat you were starting to produce--he wasn’t sweating at all.  
He was panting, though. Fucking a furry was really weird. 

Jake curled up closer around you at an effort, squeezing his stomach and taking valuable pressure off your dick. But that was fine, you could live with that so long as the smooth angled drill of him was still sliding in and out of you, and so long as he was staring at you with those big orange eyes that were so weirdly like yours but so obviously Jake. 

Fuck it. You let the lightning loose in you, let it snap and claw at the restraints Jake had made for you. No effect save for making them uncomfortably warm--Jake had thought ahead and accounted for you. You yelled in frustration and Jake barked a laugh, punishing you with a hard pull and a harder push that shoved you upwards and made you squeal.

JAKE: Knotty boy, dirk! You should’ve known better than to try anything like that.  


You couldn’t answer, your words torn out of you. Your defiance had woken him up somehow, and defeated you entirely. You really were trapped here, really were at his mercy. It occurred to you you didn’t know if you’d gotten hard again that fast because you were a young man in your prime or just because Jake had wanted you to, and your cock spiked up and bumped into Jake’s fur in answer. 

He thrust in, pulled out--wet, sloppy sounds ripping out from between you. Stared directly at your face all the while, his face consumed with pleasure and desire. Growing hungrier.  
His eyes softened, turned into a wordless question. He stilled, looked down at his crotch, then back at you. 

Well. You had asked. And when had you denied Jake anything? You bit your lip and nodded, gasping and flushed hard with heat and sweat.  
He leaned in again, one last time. Took your cock in his hand while he was at it, and it was so raw and sore and ready for more you cried out the instant you felt flesh. Like this his palm was big enough to cover almost your whole length. Usually Jake death gripped your dick and took no prisoners, so you were grateful to find he was considerably gentler now--probably too aware of how strong he was vis a vis your fragile human body. 

That sense of widening penetration again, reaching Jake’s threshold and breaching it, wider and wider and wider still. You hissed and panted hard, moaned when his wet hand dragged over your cock like he asked you to do a trick. Then a wall, Jake’s knot bumping into you. He just waited there, stroking you, you tossing and squirming under him. 

Then he got tired of waiting and started to push. 

What you weren’t ready for was the sharp pulling demand, a gentle climb turned into a steep mountain climb. Your wail grew high and reedy immediately, and Jake slowed down with a small worried swear. You worked to catch your breath, letting yourself get accustomed to the pressure. Christ, you were going to have to start alchemizing dildos to practice with. 

Millimeter by excruciating millimeter, he worked his way in. He was making those deep growls again, fervent and barely restrained. Holding back, for your sake. You breathed deep, slowly getting yourself to relax, getting used to the additional strain. Curled your legs around him again, settled in. That helped, actually--let you angle up and into him. 

With a soft sigh, you gave him a tiny nod, and he started again. You grit your teeth--felt force you wide, wide, wide until you worried you might break. And then a merciful, visceral pop and you were past the highest of it and he forced the rest inside you in a sharp thrust that made you wail. He pressed his palm into your chest and curled over you, pressing his forehead into your neck. 

The thick orb of his cock in you was like nothing you’d ever imagined, burning hot. It pushed at you but you were squeezing in return, and there was a gentle give to it that forced the cum right out of him. Now that he was in, he’d frozen completely, save for his hand working your dick. Soon you realized he was whimpering, a high, keening sound that left your ears ringing and your heart spinning. How he could sound so vulnerable while fucking you, you’d never figure out--but that was fine so long as he never quit doing it. 

The sound was actually kind of too sweet, and before you knew it you were pressing your cheek against the black hair between his ears. Brushed one of them with your nose. Damn, that was soft. This was so fucking cute. You let yourself swoon at your giant, whimpering wolf stud of a boyfriend and came gently in his hand while he filled you up, letting your moans out as quiet whispers into his ear. 

Fresh coat of paint applied to both your chests, he let you go and unclasped first your one hand, then the other. You immediately forced both sore, bruised appendages around his neck, drawing him in closer. No time for recovery when there was a Jake to be cuddled. You sighed with fulfillment. Jake in your arms. The best a guy could ever ask for. 

He wrapped his arms around you and rolled lazily, tossing you over on top of him. His legs spread out under you, but there was plenty to lay on with just his upper body, and you didn’t even care about how wet and gross it was when he made a happy little sound as you curled around him. You had to avoid his big panting tongue, even though that smile was incredible. 

You were stuck to him, though--his fucking dick was enormous, and it just didn’t seem to be softening. You were pretty sure he’d stopped coming. Mostly sure? You were going to need to spend like, an entire day in the shower after this. Worth it, though.

JAKE: Oh man, that was downright friggin astronomical…  
DIRK: I’ll say.  
JAKE: Happy birthday, dirk. Didn’t mean to let things drag out this long, though.  
JAKE: You’re gonna be so tired for your co-birthday with dave! Aw jeez i’m sorry….  
DIRK: It’s...my birthday?   
JAKE: Durrr yes good job mister knowitall!   
DIRK: Oh. Well. This was about right, then. Got my brains fucked out, fulfilled a depraved fantasy, now I get to fall asleep in your arms…  
DIRK: Pretty stellar job all around, English. Ten stars.  
JAKE: Out of how many?????  
DIRK: Five.  
JAKE: Yesssssssssssssssssssssssss :D8  
JAKE: So...eheheheheh……  
JAKE: Would you say that *pff* makes me a --snrk--  
DIRK: A good boy.  
DIRK: Sigh.  
DIRK: Yes, Jake, you did it.  
DIRK: You’re the good boy. It’s you.   
JAKE: :D :D :D :D :D :D :D  
DIRK: Yes, I’m thrilled for you and that easy, easy joke you just made.  
JAKE: Aw come on :( you should lean into it, maybe rub my tummy!!!  
JAKE: You know, ironically???  


You’d have taken him seriously, but you knew for a fact if you looked down at his chest and started rubbing you were going to end up going for a round three. Instead you just dug and raked your fingers through his hair on your side sleepily, without opening your eyes. He made a noise of pleasure and shuddered, his cock twitching inside you. That actually seemed to soften it up somewhat, take some of the pressure off you. 

You were already starting to doze off, though. He was just too damn comfortable. One of his hands came around to your back and stroked at it gently, with sharp claws that drew nothing but pleasure out of you. He was like a cloud, and you were spent entirely. You thought after something like this you should say something, like, “I love you” or whatever. 

You were trying to put the words on your lips when you fell asleep.


End file.
